Allison and I

Let me introduce you to Allison.

Allison is a girl in my Sunday School class. You might recognize her. She always volunteers to pray and read Scripture for the lesson. She’s always excited about charity events and has always already volunteered for whatever event the teacher is recruiting for this week. She wears cardigans and maxi skirts that everyone declares to be “the cutest.” She teaches elementary school. Her job is a struggle, and she feels overwhelmed by the experience. But as the teacher tells her, it’s God’s work to touch children’s lives, and she cheerfully agrees.

Allison sits next to me in church. She sings on-pitch for the songs and takes pages of nice, neat notes on the sermons. She listens carefully to the announcements. She serves as a counselor during the invitation. And she stays afterwards to greet anyone and everyone when the service is over. Allison is the perfect young Southern Baptist woman.

I am not Allison.

I don’t make it to church every Sunday, and I don’t volunteer much, because I’m busy working. I wear dresses that don’t always cover my shoulders and skirts that don’t always cover my knees. My job is not nice and warm and fuzzy; it doesn’t involve nurturing children or decorating houses – in fact, some people in my denomination think it’s a disgrace.

I sometimes take notes during the sermon, but usually of my own thoughts, because for me, a very straightforward sermon always branches off into a million other areas of interest. The pastor starts out talking about the beatitudes, and I end up thinking about whether we have a duty to heroism and how females can take on greater leadership roles in the church.

My point is not that the church needs to be more inclusive; they can’t change the fact that I’m different, nor should they be obligated to. Besides, this isn’t a church problem. I could write another post about Hillary, the perfect female Naval officer, or Helen, the perfect Harvard student, and tell you how little alike we are. I seem to be an ugly duckling wherever I go. My point is also not that Allison is a hypocrite. She’s not; she’s genuine, humble, and warm-hearted. I’m just not Allison.

And that’s okay.

The world is changing. No longer are door-to-door visits, week-long crusades, and church planting the most effective ways of fighting evil and bringing people to God. No longer are church-supported, seminary-trained eager young pastors the most effective missionaries. And no longer are churches full of Allisons the primary way cities are reached with the gospel.

The experience of those who grew up in church is diverging further and further from that of the man on the street. The organized church is losing influence on more and more people. And that means that standard-issue church customs and cultures are no longer the answer. This is good news for the non-Allisons in the world.

God doesn’t make us on an assembly line or as batch jobs; we are custom-made for our assignments in this world. If your make and model aren’t the norm, don’t worry. You aren’t a mistake, or a failure, or a disgrace. You are tailor-made for the purpose God has for you. But it’s up to you whether you’ll seize that purpose.

So if you go to church and feel awkwardly out-of-place, don’t worry about it. If every organ in your body looked the same, it wouldn’t be a body; it’d just be a pile of livers or kidneys or lungs. Only when everyone embraces their unique function can we come together to become something larger and more effective than we were individually. That is what the body of Christ is all about. And that is the path I hope you can discover for yourself.

“Photo” by Tradlands is licensed under CC BY 2.0. To view a copy of this license, visit: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0